


A Stranger in a Crown

by quantumoddity



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Arranged Marriage, But we're all about that healing, Canon Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, I mean it's Juno and diamond so, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Juno is a Princess, Love at First Sight, M/M, Nureyev is here to rob him, Other, Outdoor Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, and fresh starts, and things go how you expect, past abusive relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: Juno Steel has one night to pick the person who will become his betrothed, one night to pick the person who will save their planet and he will spend the rest of his life with. None of the choices offered appeal to him, he's exhausted with the expectations of being the crown princess.But there is a potential suitor amongst the crowd that he hasn't met yet.
Relationships: Diamond/Juno Steel (Past), Mick Mercury & Juno Steel & Sasha Wire, Mick Mercury/Benzaiten Steel, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 37
Kudos: 280





	1. Chapter 1

The only time Juno liked to see his reflection was when it was gazing back at him from the surface of the champagne in his glass. 

Then it would always be shifting and changing as the bubbles rose to the top and burst like stars falling to the ground, only played in reverse. Then it would be the colour of old, faded gold. Then it would be small, shrunken down to the circumference of the flute in his hand, looking far enough away to not hurt him. 

With such a blurry and indistinct reflection, you could be anyone. It all became so wonderfully hard to pin down. He couldn’t see the too large nose or the scar across the non functioning eye, the scowl or the lines at the corners of everything that told him he’d waited too long. He could pretend he wasn’t looking at Juno Steel at all but someone else, someone with a different life. Even the background became an abstract, watercolour, blotches of cream and gold and silver, pricked through by points of light. Anyone and anywhere. What a dream. 

And when he remembered, when reality came crashing back in...well, there was alcohol right there. 

“I’ll be watching how many of those you have,” his mother’s voice came from behind him, “Tonight is not the night to disgrace yourself, Juno, too much is riding on your performance.”

Juno set the flute back down, now holding dregs, back amongst its many twins on the table by the door, set so the guests didn’t have to spend a moment at the ball without a drink in their hand. Would that he’d be granted the same courtesy.

“It’s my ball, isn’t it?” Juno muttered, in too much of a dark mood to back down, “I can have one drink.” 

His  _ performance.  _ It was that word that had set his hackles up, made him snap back at his mother when he knew the sensible thing would be to bow his head and keep silent, especially when she had that face on. 

But it was true, wasn’t it? Tonight was the most choreographed event their tiny outer world had seen in years, more effort had gone into it than a freaking cabaret. And Juno was the star, not that he’d ever auditioned. But so much more was at risk, way more than a bad review, if he put a foot wrong tonight. 

“You can have  _ one  _ drink,” his mother narrowed her eyes, that scowl settling into her powdered face and cracking it like a poorly made cake. She’d blame him for that too before the night was out, “One drink, out here. But if I see you so much as reach for a glass when you’re out there, where everyone can see you, after the way you’ve been behaving lately…”

“I know,” Juno said sharply, feeling his cheeks colour, shame burning in his chest, burning the fight in him to black, brittle shards that didn’t have a hope in hell of standing on their own, “I won’t...it won’t be like that.”

“Then prove it,” there was a note of triumph behind her voice, “Stand where you’re supposed to and wait for our cue. Like we actually rehearsed.” 

Shoulders feeling heavy, Juno returned to his mother’s side, the enormous silken skirts of his ridiculous gown whispering as he moved, sounding like a hidden audience gleefully gossiping about him. Back in their allotted places, the three of them arrayed in a triangle. Juno and Sarah in front and, just behind, Benzaiten. As soon as Juno was back in place, his brother reached forward and took his hand, giving it a quick squeeze, the only comfort he could give right now. But it was something. 

Juno held his fingers tightly in return and wished he dared turn his head to see him smile, the kind of smile that made him believe everything would be okay because Benten would never be far, no matter what happened tonight. 

Except now, even that was running on borrowed time. And as that thought entered his mind, his hold on Benten’s hand felt like a desperate grasp, like trying to keep his grip on a rocky shore when the sea was trying to drag him out into fatal depths. 

But the tides were moving and nothing could stop them. His mother raised her hand, dripping with gemstones, and attendants began moving at her wordless command. The enormous oaken doors in front of them creaked and began to move, their bulk inching forward. The noise of the party within went from muddy and blurred to clear, the music and voices untangling themselves and becoming separate sounds, the rich golden light flowing into the hallway. It all resolved itself, like a picture on a comms, becoming an enormous ballroom spread out like a tapestry from the balcony they walked out on. The chandeliers, fitted with genuine halogen bulbs, hung like watching spacecraft, illuminating the party attendants below, elaborately dressed lily pads bobbing aimlessly on a lacquered wood pond. It was all enormous, lavish dresses in rich materials, exquisitely embroidered suits and some garments that straddled the line between the two, every single one of them encrusted with jewels like beetles with fabulous carapaces. At the opening of the doors, the musicians paused and the directionless meandering stilled, hands that were reaching for glasses of wine or the tables of delicate canapes quickly returning to sides. All eyes turned upwards and the cameras began to flash. 

The herald drew herself up and, rather unnecessarily announced for all to hear, “Her Majesty, Queen Sarah, the Prince Benzaiten and the Crown Princess Juno.” 

As if there was anyone in the room, anyone on their entire tiny outer world planet, who didn’t know who they were. 

His mother, smiling benevolently with an expression whose falsehood could only be seen from up close, raised her hands in welcome and projected her voice through the ballroom, “I thank each and every one of you for your attendance tonight. Truly, we hope this will be a magnificent night that will change the future of our humble planet and secure a path to bigger and better things for all on Harpyia. With the long awaited selection of a spouse for my heir, your devoted Princess Juno, we will put the war behind us and move forward together. So! Welcome suitors, visitors and Harpyians. Welcome all.”

There was a polite clapping at the end of her pronouncement and more eyes on him, making his skin crawl. He tried to fix a regal smile on his face, like he’d seen his mother do, like he’d been practising in the mirror since he was eight, waiting for it to get easier. 

Cameras flashed and there were appreciative murmurings as the party’s attentions fragmented again, dissolving back into little bubbles as the music started up again, flowing seamlessly back together as if there had been no break. 

“Now,” Sarah turned and lowered her voice, talking only to her two children though her eyes were fixed on Juno, “You know what I expect. Smiles, light conversation and above all, get them on our side. This is a ballroom full of wolves, my little monsters, and tonight is the only chance we have to turn them into wolves on our side. So charm them, however it takes. And Juno?”

Juno lifted his eye from the floor, already knowing what was coming, “Yes, mother?”

“Pick one,” Sarah said through gritted teeth, “Or I will pick one for you. This is your last chance.”

Pick one, Juno thought miserably. Pick one set of those eyes to have to live with, to own you, to spend the rest of your days hiding from while sharing their bed. Become a china doll, sitting on their mantle. And pick correctly or Harpyia is done for. Our mines are empty, our seas and skies are poisoned, our people are dying, the much larger planets that circle us are watching hungrily, ready to fight over what scraps of meat remain on our bones. 

Save the planet. And doom yourself. But for the love of god, do it right. 

“Yes mother,” he murmured. 

  
  


The queen’s words followed Juno on his circuit of smiles and platitudes like the train of his ridiculous gown. 

_ This is a ballroom full of wolves.  _ And he was the bait.

They were all here, he could find their faces in the crowd with very little effort, they stood out like pins pushed into a map. All his suitors. God, he hated that word. And by the time this ball was over, he had to pick one of those pins and follow it, to whatever depressing end. 

They went on a sliding scale, these people who were courting him or being forced to court him by parents somehow even more demanding than his own. From very bad ideas all the way down to abominably bad, borderline suicidal ideas. 

One of those was eyeing him from across the dancefloor and, when Juno noticed, gave him a smile of the kind a Halloween decoration might give. That was the only kind Cecil Kanagawa was capable of. 

The tricky part was that Cecil actually seemed to like Juno, or at least his own twisted version of that. They’d known each other for some time, his mother and father’s kingdom was closest to their own, their planet hanging in Harpyia’s sky like another moon. They’d also eyed the queen’s throne with more hunger than most dared. It was rumour so widely accepted that it wore a fact’s clothes that it was the Kanagawas who had sent the assassin that had almost claimed the Steel twins’ lives when they came of age. Almost. Would have succeeded, too, if Juno hadn’t woken up to see the figure holding the blaster to Ben’s forehead and been stupid enough to launchhimself at them without a second’s thought to call for the guards. 

Though the queen had been paralytic with rage, there had never been anything to tie that figure to their neighbours in the sky, and the assassin had become a corpse before they could give up the name of their employer, thanks to the letter opener Juno had shoved through their neck. It was all courtroom gossip, nothing their guard could do to make it solid and graspable. 

But still, the hollow socket Juno had been left with after that night always ached when he looked at Cecil. 

Juno quickly stepped into a circle of the rich merchants who ran the banks of their capital city, subjecting himself to the most boring and vaguely sickening conversation just to get away from those eyes and that smile, the deranged potential future husband standing across the room, dressed like a murderous peacock. 

The men, whose names Juno really should have known but couldn’t extend the mental effort to track them down, acknowledged him politely and congratulated him on his upcoming betrothal but immediately dismissed him afterwards. Juno was used to that, most of the queen’s important subjects, those who sat her various councils, saw him as less of a son and more of a colourful pet who’d been perched on her shoulder since he was born. Good for generating interesting gossip and very little else. It had always been the same, ever since he’d started shadowing the queen. They still looked at him like he was a prettily dressed toddler, made to be cooed over and complimented and indulged with gifts but nothing more. 

Juno would wonder how his mother ever expected him to rule them after her death and then remember, depressingly, that of course she didn’t. She expected his spouse to do that. 

He’d proven he couldn’t be trusted. 

Speaking of which, the bankers were all well into their cups, carelessly dripping wine worth more than most of their workers would see in their lives onto the floor as they guffawed over their own cleverness. The smell of it, acrid and heady and so goddamn tempting, made the constant, prickling thirst in the back of Juno’s throat flare up even worse. He excused himself politely and quickly, to none of their notice. 

Juno went into autopilot for a while, circling through a seemingly never ending parade of half familiar faces and identical conversations of no substance, fake smiles and laughs like puffs of cotton candy, sugary with nothing inside. While his facial muscles moved, his eyes scanned the room for Benten, catching glimpses of him occasionally, as ensnared in the net as he was. He knew tonight was too important for any of their games but it was still some small comfort to know his brother was just over there, going through the exact same hell he was. 

After a while of this, his mind wandering behind his mask, a voice far closer and far more aware startled Juno into something more like being awake. 

“Having fun, Your Majesty?”

Juno turned to see a smiling, well lined face, a sharp suit, a simple cocktail held lightly in one hand. 

“Jack,” Juno relaxed a little, turning to face him so the two of them were a little ways apart by the table of desserts, as private as two people could be at a function like this, “Not exactly.”

“I can tell, son,” Lord Takano- Jack to Juno and Ben since they were little kids- chuckled wryly. He must have seen the panic in Juno’s eye for he quickly added, “Only because I know you. Your mother will be none the wiser, you’re the image of a perfect princess.”

Juno gave a mirthless laugh at the irony of that, hand reaching automatically for a glass of champagne before drawing back, “Yipee for me.”

Jack’s seamed face softened in sympathy, “I know, kiddo. I know this night isn’t your idea and, believe me, your mother and I did everything we could to try and find another way…”

Juno didn’t doubt that. Lord Takano was the queen’s closest advisor and had been for as long as either of the twins could remember. He’d been by her side all through the war and had been the loudest, firmest voice in setting Harpyia back on its feet in the aftermath. Juno, also stuck in those seemingly endless, seemingly depressing meetings, was always glad that Jack was there. He was sometimes the only person in the room that spoke sense, with the way he always put the people of their planet first and prioritised things that seemed actually important like schools, healthcare and housing. On the very rare occasions Juno was allowed to open his mouth in those sessions, what came out was usually an agreement with whatever Jack had said. That often earned him a warm smile from the lord himself and a look from the queen that was hard to parse. 

“I know you did,” Juno grunted, not meaning  _ you both. _

Jack’s smile turned fond, the kind Juno imagined from streams and stories that parents were supposed to look at their children, “I know you’ll do what’s right, kiddo. The whole planet’s proud of you.” 

Juno thought viciously that he didn’t care about the planet being proud of him. He’d have settled for just one person on it in particular. Then he felt horribly guilty and chastised himself, turning his eye to the floor. 

“Hey,” Jack gave him a smile, leaning in and opening one side of his jacket, pulling out an elaborately carved silver flask, and passing it to Juno, “Our little secret, eh? Your mother doesn’t have to know.”

Juno hesitated but after his eye glanced up to Jack’s, seeing warmth and the knowingness that he’d always respected, the one that had always reassured him, he reached out and took a lightning fast swig, chasing it with another. He didn’t even know what it was but it had a foggy burn to it that made him not care. It put some distance between him and the room. 

“Thanks,” Juno returned it, feeling the loss as he made his fingers uncurl, “I needed that.” 

“I’m your mother’s advisor and one day, god willing, I’ll be yours,” Jack grinned, “I’m very well practised at giving you Steels what you need. What do I always say, after all? It’s a fact…”

“I can count on Jack,” Juno finished, feeling a little silly parroting their childish mantra but it made him smile, “I’d better get back out there…”

“Of course,” Jack nodded, “Sensible, Juno, as always. Best of luck, kiddo.” 

Juno gave a grunt that could have been a laugh in the right light, moving away with a macaron in hand in case anyone might wonder what they’d been doing over there for so long. Jack’s words echoed in his mind like they were a part of the thrumming music filling the ballroom. 

Juno didn’t need luck. If he had a scrap of that, there would be some fantastical deus ex machina that would swoop in and pluck him out of this situation, freeing him from the current that was dragging him into a future he didn’t want, snipping the strands of the spider web that was holding him. And somehow manage it without dooming his planet to being pulled apart by greedy kingdoms or more war and splintering his family into the bargain. The best of luck would give him that, what he wanted but knew he couldn’t need. 

Juno swallowed the lump in his throat and plunged back into the crowds, clinging to the taste of whatever had been in that flask. 

“You’re dragging your feet, little monster.”

That was the only thing the queen said to him, whispered in a hiss to his left ear as she passed him by to another gaggle of cortiers, to smile graciously and tell them how proud she was of her dear princess. 

And she was right, Juno knew that. They were an hour in and he hadn’t approached one of his suitors. In fact, he’d been actively circling away from any of them that came near, feeling like a pinball in one of those old arcade games, bounced from side to side in a colourful contraption, an instant away from getting hurtled off course at any moment. The ball was likely to last into the small, grey tinged hours of the morning, when the decorations had wilted to loose petals and the hangings pooling on the floor, but every moment counted tonight. And Juno was deliberately wasting those moments. 

He stifled a sigh and tried to take stock of his options. Cecil was dancing with his twin sister, the two of them looking eerily beautiful and eerily identical. Marrying Cassandra wouldn’t have been so bad, Juno supposed, she didn’t have the sadistic streak her brother did. Just the baseline narcissism, psychosis and ruthlessness that came standard amongst the Kanagawas. If not for those five minutes that made Cecil the oldest and by law the heir to everything that came with the surname. Juno knew damn well how scant minutes between births could cause a hell of a lot of trouble.

Not that their stepmother wasn’t keeping her options open. Juno couldn’t help but notice she’d been sending Cassandra in his direction at previous balls similar to this one, going so far as to somehow get them locked in a closet together the last time he’d been forced into a stiff, awkward diplomatic meeting at their palace. Juno’s panic attack had soured the seven minutes in heaven mood somewhat, at least Cassandra had been apologetic. 

There were a few more in the line up,l heirs from neighbouring planets rendered as exhausted by this life as Juno himself. Most of them with blank eyes, the telltale sign of normalcy being a paper thin mask, the person behind it just waiting for the next fix of whatever they drank, injected or snorted to help them put one foot in front of the other. 

Juno knew far too much about that. Looking at them, picking out faces he knew from parties the queen certainly hadn’t sanctioned that he'd had to slip out of the castle to attend, Juno felt old guilt and shame stirring in his stomach. Suddenly the hard won distance he’d put between himself and his demons didn’t feel like all that far. It felt like it could be covered in a single step, every inch he’d struggled for could be lost so easily. 

So Juno kept his distance from them as well. 

Which left him with one option. The only option he knew he could never take. 

“We should, uh, probably go dance, huh?” 

He’d finally tracked him down when he was standing by the band, swaying lightly to the music. They were finally playing a song he liked. His own damn ball and they didn’t even let him choose the music. 

Juno gave him a tired, wayn smile but nothing in it said he wasn’t happy to see him.

“I think we’d better. Nice to see you, Lord Mercury.”

Mick pulled a face, shifting from one foot to the other, “C’mon, cut it out or I’m going to call you ‘your majesty’ all night.”

“Don’t you dare,” Juno grunted, taking his hand and walking with him into the middle of the floor. 

Juno could remember when he, Mick and Ben had all been of a height, before they selfishly grew when he didn’t and left him behind. Now he had to crane his neck to look into his eyes.

Bartholomew Mercury had grown in a lot of ways, since the three of them and the captain of the guard’s daughters had been best friends, playing in the gardens around the palace. The sudden loss of his father in the war, propelling him into suddenly being the head of the biggest, most powerful family on Harpyia at just twelve years old, now having to manage his family’s finances, their power and having to awkwardly court his best friend at the insisting of his board members, it had changed him. He wasn’t the kid who’d told his stories about the dangerous and fantastical and heroic exploits his father was surely getting up to on the battlefield, all of them enraptured. 

In a perfect world, Mick would be the answer to all of Juno’s problems. A good, rich family with Harpyia’s best interests as their motivators, plenty of creds to refill their lacking coffers, a long standing reputation for loyalty and patriotism. They wouldn’t need to sell themselves to a bigger planet, they could build themselves stronger from within. And Mick had a good heart, if Juno could be selfish for a moment and want that in his spouse. He was a goof and lived with his head in some story he’d made up himself but he could make Juno laugh and they cared about each other, still in the fierce, unbreakable way that children did. 

It would have been perfect. If Mick had the good sense to fall in love with the right twin. 

It had been the little things, at first. The way Ben had looked at Mick as he’d tell his stories, like the rest of the world had fallen away apart from him. It was the way Mick would make excuses to sit in at the end of Ben’s dance lessons and watch with much the same expression. It had been annoying at first, when Juno was too young to know what it all really meant, just a way his best friends were excluding him. It had been hard, realising that there was someone his twin needed more than him, but Juno had quickly made it part of his job in their late teens. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d distracted some servant or even the queen, knowing Ben and Mick were in some compromising position behind the twins’ bedroom door. 

That was back when it had been fun and games, just two young nobles feeling stifled by their lives and finding some small joy in each other, spiced with rebellion. Him and Juno swapping clothes in the middle of parties to give them an excuse to cuddle up, Mick stealing up through their bedroom window on nights where Juno made damn sure to ‘accidentally’ fall asleep in one of the guest rooms. 

And then the time for games had run out, the reality they’d all been ignoring coming collapsing back in on them when Juno had come of age, half an hour before Benzaiten. Such a small amount of time to make so much difference. 

But Juno still did everything he could to give the two their time together. It was the least he could do, after all. 

Even now he could see Mick’s eyes looking past Juno’s face, snagging on something in the background while they chatted mildly, joshing each other back and forth. When they spinned with the swell in the music, Juno saw exactly what he expected to. His brother, standing and watching them, not at all listening to the socialite he was supposed to be talking to. His expression broke Juno’s heart clean in two. Soft and sad and miles away. And accepting.

If Juno asked, he knew Ben would say yes. He’d tried to start the conversation a few times, in that fuzzy hour as they both fell asleep in the beds they insisted on keeping no more than a few meters apart. But Juno had stopped him every time, sharper than he’d meant to but he just couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear his little brother, his bright, smiling brother who’d gotten him through the worst years of his life and deserved only good things, he couldn’t hear him, out loud, give up the man he loved, had loved since they were ten, to keep Juno safe. 

Because Juno didn’t want to feel the part of him that would long to let it happen. 

“Mick, go dance with my brother already,” Juno let his arms fall as the song faded, speaking below the babble of the voices around them, “You’ve done your time.”

Mick bit his lip, a very unlordly habit he’d not been able to shake, “Aw Jay, you know it isn’t like that…”

“I know what it’s like,” Juno shook his head, straightening Mick’s tie where he hadn’t got the knot quite right, “It’s okay...just make it last for him, yeah?” 

Mick swallowed a sigh and kissed the back of Juno’s hand, “I will.” 

Juno found another partner within a minute, he was the belle of the ball as it were. But, as cruel as he felt, his eyes never stayed on their face for more than a moment because they were watching Lord Mercury and the prince share their dance. It was known throughout the court that they were boyhood friends, of course it was only natural that they should dance together, laughing and smiling as two young men at a party would. 

Only Juno saw how Mick’s hand would brush Benten’s cheek as they moved between holds, over the scar there from when he’d fallen from one of the curtain walls on a dare. He saw how Benten’s long, graceful fingers played with Mick’s dreads as they swayed. He saw the myriad of subtle, tender gestures that were all that they could give each other even when they were so close, hearts beating side by side. It was beautiful and tragic all at once. 

Juno watched, seeing what everyone else missed, even with one eye less than everyone else in the room. 

A dance could last a lifetime, if you lied to yourself enough. 

An hour shy of midnight. The ball was still in full swing, no self respecting noble dared yawn before it was technically the next day. The drinks kept being refilled, the plates of tiny desserts replenished themselves whenever you looked away, like fairies were working behind the scenes to keep the tableau as exquisitely crafted as anything from a stream or, hell, even a child’s picture book. This was a marathon of decadence, not a sprint. 

Decadence Juno knew full well Harpyia couldn’t afford. Every meringue done up to look like a perfect cloud, every drop of wine rich as summer, was more gold that didn’t exist in the vaults. The queen may expect him to sleepwalk through the council meetings but Juno had long ago perfected the art of looking utterly bored while his eye missed nothing. Splendour was expensive but not nearly so much as war. The system wide conflict, the one that barely had anything to do with any soul on Harpyia, had taken great, greedy bites out of their creds, their resources, their populace. Larger planets with more corrupt governance could bear it quite easily but Harpyia was outer rim which meant small, beautiful and fragile. Not that this was spoken about, certainly not outside of the council chamber, but Juno could pick from the crowd who was really in the know by the vaguest hint of anxiety behind every sip of wine and every bite. 

And in the way they looked at him, the formerly wayward princess who was going to save them all by lying down, opening his legs and keeping his mouth shut. As the night wore on, the jewellery that had been laid out beside his dress that evening, the bangles and cuffed earrings and strings of gold around his neck, started to feel like chains under those glances. The tiara, the one the eldest Steel child had been wearing for centuries, felt like a cage around his head. They could almost have been dragging on the floor as he tried to stand to the side and take a breath. Long, golden chains arching up into the ceiling and disappearing into shadows, someone unseen at the other end. His mother, the queen, the two sides of Sarah Steel that he often forgot was one person? Lord Takano, with his confidential smiles, playing at being his father from a safe distance, always with a flask on hand? The centuries of Steels who had come before him, all wearing that damned tiara, stretching back to when Harpyia was just a rock floating in space, content never to know the touch of human feet on its surface? 

Or someone beyond even them?

Suddenly, all too fast, it was hard to breathe. Juno cursed silently, taking a seat on one of the long, satin pillowed benches that edged the hall. He bent his head as low as he could, under the guise of fixing a heel on his shoe, trying to breathe slowly. 

Why did it have to happen like this, hitting him like a brick wall so he had no chance, like a sudden current grabbing his ankle and yanking him below the surface. It had always been like this when he would drink, feeling so loose and free one instant and his heart hammering against his ribs the next. Like he’d just stumbled wrong and fallen badly but there was no steadying himself. 

Benten, where was Ben? Juno didn’t dare lift his head to look, just in case someone saw the panic on his face, the tears building in his eye. He couldn’t let them see, that would be the worst thing he could imagine, worse than if he’d drank three bottles of champagne himself and danced on the band’s stage. The off the rails princess narrative had been at least acceptable when he was younger, at least it had entertained the gossip streams for a while, but if any of them saw the very real cracks behind the dresses and the lipstick, the scars they couldn’t spin or monetize, then they would really be in trouble.

_ They’re all counting on you,  _ he tried to tell himself to force himself to calm down,  _ Ben, Mother, Jack, they’re all counting on you, all of them. _

But it only made his lungs clench harder.

Juno could feel shadows creeping in around his already tilted vision, a taste like the gin in Jack’s flask but sharper, more metallic. He’d tried to sit apart but soon they’d hear, they’d hear his ragged breathing, whistling between his clenched teeth. They’d hear and they’d see and they’d know and everything would come crumbling down, everything he said he was caving in on itself like spun sugar. Pretty, sweet and utterly useless. 

_They’re counting on you, on you_ _and if you mess up, if you ruin it,_ when _you ruin it…_

“Ma’am? Excuse me, are you alright?”

Juno thought he’d imagined it at first, how could there be a voice he didn’t know at this party? They were all the queen’s courtiers and servants, people he’d known all his life, suitors who had been circling since he came of age. How could there be a single voice he couldn’t place? A queen must know her subjects, he’d always been told that, he was good with faces and voices and names. 

Juno looked up, remembering too late that he couldn’t let anyone see him like this, whether he knew their voice or not. But his face was so kind, too kind to look away, the way you couldn’t look away from a fire when you were cold down to your bones. He was young, Juno’s age, his eyes bright and alive in a way no noble born kid’s had ever been, his hair dark and looking impossibly soft. And he was smiling, gently curious, gently worried. 

“Are you alright?” he prompted again, his voice softly accented in a way Juno couldn’t place. 

“Yes,” Juno said quickly, realising how unconvincing it sounded, “Thank you, just…” 

What could he say? Tired? Desperate for a drink? Ready to rip this ridiculous dress off at the skirt so his legs were free to run?

“Overwhelmed?” the man provided gently, lifting an eyebrow. 

Juno swallowed hard but there was no judgement in the stranger’s gaze, “Yes...I suppose that would do.”

“We could step outside for a moment?” he offered, “Get some fresh air? It’s rather a lot in here, I do agree.”

Juno frowned, trying to make sense of this with his already exhausted mind. Didn’t he know? How was that even possible, how did anyone set foot on the palace grounds, hell on this  _ planet _ , and not know who he was? 

“I don’t know…” 

His eye darted around the ballroom, quickly, not wanting to catch the attention of anyone else. The queen was dancing with Lord Takano, their faces warm with old friendship but Juno could tell at a glance they were in some kind of disagreement behind those smiles, a silent argument was taking place. They’d been fighting a lot lately. Benzaiten was carrying two drinks over to where Lord Mercury stood, chatting away to Sasha with his usual goofy smile, Sasha probably in the middle of exasperatedly explaining that she was supposed to be on duty tonight and couldn’t stop to chat. Cecil Kanagawa was talking to a pretty socialite whose expression was falling into poorly concealed disgust and fright at the exact same rate as he grew more animated and enthused. 

He wouldn’t be missed for a minute. Just a minute, to breathe and settle himself again. Already he amassed excuses for the queen. He was preventing a bigger disaster, he was in the bathroom, he was integrating himself with this stranger, hadn’t she told him to win people to their side?

“You have some lovely gardens around this palace,” the man in question smiled, “Perhaps you’d like to show me them? If you have the time of course. I would hate to keep such a beautiful lady from his admirers.”

Juno felt his cheeks get hot at that, in a pleasant way. This man was exactly the type of person he’d try and snag at a party back in the day, tall and well dressed and a sharp smile. He’d been denied every other small pleasure tonight, every escape, why let them take this one too? 

And he liked a mystery. 

“I’d be happy to,” Juno stood before he could change his mind, making his stranger quickly straighten and step back, though not too far, “Just for a moment.” 

He smiled, showing teeth that were more pointed than could be natural. Was he a journalist, new enough on the scene that he wasn’t included in Sasha’s dossiers yet? He certainly had the smile of someone who knew more than they should. 

Juno took the offered arm, feeling very expensive silk with costly detailed embroidery. Far too nice for a gossip hungry shutterbug. He made for the large door but Juno shook his head silently and wove them a different way, one where they were less likely to be seen, slipping out from behind a curtain into a library, through the stacks to a much simpler iron door that led right out into the topiary. 

“An impressive disappearance, ma’am,” the man smiled crookedly, eyes twinkling now there was moonlight to be caught in them, “Have I made off with tonight’s entertainment? The best magician in the solar system?”

He did know, Juno decided, smirking. But he was happy to play along, things would be so much easier if they were both strangers. 

“Perhaps you have,” he shrugged, making his jewellery ring loud in the empty garden, “You should be flattered, I don’t often perform for private audiences.”

“Oh, my dear,” there was that smile again, sharp and almost hungry, “Just having you out here with me is flattering.” 

Whoever he was, he flirted better than anyone Juno had ever met. His cheeks were getting warmer by the second. 

He did show him the gardens, they were something of a pride of the palace, it was boasted that they were the only gardens even more beautiful by night than by day. The flowers that grew here were all native to Harpyia, carrying the natural bioluminescence that seemed inherent to their flora. The glow on their bare skin shifted between blue, green, pale yellow and a starlight white as they moved between the beds that hugged the winding paths. The scent was light, not overwhelming but pervasive, it would cling to their skin for hours after. Juno told him everything he remembered about them, everything he’d read in a book or picked up by osmosis when he was running through them carelessly as a child, bothering the gardeners. 

“Incredible…” his stranger breathed, the awe on his face clearly not an act. 

“Wow,” Juno chuckled, “You really aren’t from here, are you?”

The smile that won him made the hair on his arms stand up, “I’m from nowhere, my dear. And this planet certainly isn’t nowhere.”

“No,” Juno agreed, eye flickering back to the facade of the palace, sharply lit by flood lights so the soft biological glow didn’t touch it, “No, it isn’t.”

He felt his stranger’s eyes on him, like he could tease out what was behind those words with a glance. 

Juno quickly cleared his throat and pinned his smile back into place, “There’s a little grove just up here, it’s a nice place to sit.”

“Lead the way, my dear.”

It was a cosy, secluded area and the stranger certainly wasn’t the first pretty face Juno had brought there. It was all encased in a grand, natural archway of the climbing, ivy like plant of blue glowing leaves with five points like how a child would imagine the stars. The butterflies that made Harpyia famous would nest here more that anywhere else in the garden, wanting the shade and the peace as much as their princess seemed to. Sitting on the ivory bench at it’s centre had always made Juno feel like a decorative bird in one of those grand, old fashioned cages. Especially now, in this get up with all the gold and gems and the flowing skirts and the attachment at the back that was basically a cape for fancy people. 

“Beautiful,” the stranger murmured, again unable to hide how genuine his delight was. 

Juno had to admit it was nice to see Harpyia through his dark eyes, not in the least because it gave him an excuse to look at them. But it reminded him that there were beautiful things about this palace and that helped his lungs open up and his heart slow down. 

“We have a folk tale,” he explained, voice soft in the dim light, “It says the butterflies are gifts from an ancient king to make our planet beautiful and our people happy.”

“I can see why,” the stranger smiled, turning to look at him. 

Juno realised he wore very little jewellery, just a simple cuff and chain on one ear and a bracelet of large links on one wrist. His clothing was expensive but the ornamentation was minimal, far more than a grand ball at the palace would expect. What made him seem so sure, so confident, more of a lord than anyone else on that dancefloor, was all in his face. Not in the paint on his lips or kohl on his eyes, it was in the way he carried himself. The way he smiled. Like he knew exactly where he was and where he needed to go after this moment. 

Juno was so gripped with envy that, for a moment, he could taste it. 

“What do I call you?” he asked, that instant of sourness making him want to press more, “I can’t very well keep calling you the stranger from nowhere.”

“Why not?” his companion smiled, “It has a certain mysterious ring to it... but I see your point. Call me Rex Glass, my dear, and we shall get along just fine.”

“Rex, huh?” Juno arched his eyebrow at that, not believing for a moment that it was the name he was born with, “What does that mean?”

He smiled knowingly, “Not all names have histories stretching back centuries. Some names are just sounds. Signifiers.” 

Juno gave a grunt of assent, turning his eye up to the canopy of flowers. The night sky could just barely be seen through them, patches in a quilt. Scatterings of tiny dots that could be raging balls of gas or long dead rocks shrouded in deadly cloaks of radiation or even other planets where other people went about their lives and made their own choices. They all had names, names they’d been given or names they’d chosen themselves. Some names would have history, but a softer, kinder, familial history that didn’t feel like a weight around their necks. A name that wasn’t a prize others competed for. A name that wouldn’t mean they had to sell themselves in a wash of pomp and luxury, calling it tradition. 

“Dear? Are you sure you’re alright?” 

The tear had reached his jaw before Juno even realised it was there. He struggled with feeling things around his eyes sometimes, remnants of the old damage. 

“Yeah,” Juno quickly wiped it away before it could beckon friends, “Just...what was the word you used, Rex? Overwhelmed? That’s it.”

“I must admit,” he seemed to be choosing his words carefully, “I’ve never had a ballroom full of people force me to get engaged. But it doesn’t take a lot of imagination to see it would be unpleasant. And overwhelming.” 

“Not pretending you don’t know me anymore, huh?” Juno smiled sadly, mourning quietly for his false anonymity. 

“I  _ don’t _ know you,” Rex insisted, “Knowing your name and knowing you’re a princess does not equal knowing who you are, knowing your heart.” 

Juno looked over at him, confused by that at first, the way you would be if something you’d always wanted to hear had just been plucked from your mind and said aloud. You’d feel a guilty responsibility for its presence in the real world. 

“What if that’s the only good thing about me?” Juno joked thinly, trying to throw up the same shields he always had, only now seeing how thin they were, “The only thing people could now and still tolerate me?”

Rex frowned a little, “I don’t think that’s true, Juno Steel. Not from what I’ve seen in only half an hour.” 

“We’ve been out here for half an hour?” Juno nearly shrieked, latching onto that because it was easier than everything else, “The queen’s going to kill me, she’ll have noticed by now…how does she not have half the guard out looking for me…”

Rex had a soft expression of regret as he put a hand on Juno’s shoulder, the touch warmer than it ought to be in the cool night air, “You can go back if you’d like, Juno, but I mean it. I think the only reason you worry there’s nothing to you other than your crown is because no one’s ever really asked. But I’m here, I’m asking. I want to know.”

Juno felt like a light had come on above the surface of the water he was submerged in, finally showing him which way to kick. But could he reach it? Did he have the energy to try?

But it would be nice to pretend. 

Intending it just to last a moment, Juno leaned in, inviting Rex to come the rest of the way. And he did, eagerly enough to make his heart kick. His lips were as soft as he’d thought they’d be from the moment he saw them and he found himself hoping there’d be a trace of his lipstick lingering when he moved away. Which he should have done by now. That had been the plan, a brief, sweet thing he could think about later when he was in bed, then run back to the ballroom and do everything he could do to calm the storm that would be waiting for him. 

But it was so  _ nice _ . It was so achingly sweet and simple in a way nothing had been for as long as Juno could remember. Rex kissed him like nothing else would ever be as important, like there were no unanswered questions between them, like this pure delight could go on and on forever even after the kiss had to end. 

Juno leaned closer, bringing a hand up to rest lightly on Rex’s cheek, thumb stroking against those sharp cheekbones. Rex’s hands moved in answer, one hand slipping around Juno’s waist, pulled tight by the corset of his dress, hand splaying over the curve of him under the billowing silk, drawing him close. The shrinking, unoccupied part of Juno’s mind noted that this was moving beyond the realm of chaste kisses in the garden, edging up the royal scale of scandalousness if anyone stumbled upon them. But he found it very hard to care, especially when Rex moaned and those sharp teeth grazed Juno’s lower lip, when he pulled him close until their chests were pressed flush against each other, silk whispering against silk. 

Juno smirked against his stranger’s lips. So he wouldn’t be the only one in trouble. 

Eventually they had to stop, both panting, noses close enough the bump into each other, making them giggle breathlessly. 

“My, my,” Rex exhaled and his breath smelled of mint, “I believe my first guess was correct. You, my dear, are simply magic.”

Juno grinned, not moving away just yet, heart beating in his chest like bird wings, “Now who’s flattering?” 

Rex laughed, the hand on his ass squeezing lightly, shamelessly, “Always me. Was that enough to convince you to stay, dear heart? Now I want to know you even more…”

“Well you can’t stick around too long either,” Juno murmured, resting his forehead against Glass’s, “Not with half of the queen’s jewellery box in those hidden pockets of yours.”

Juno had to admit, for someone who’d been underestimated almost consistently since he could walk, it was damn satisfying to feel Rex Glass stiffen in shock against him.

“Ah…” his voice was surprisingly smooth, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear…”

Juno chuckled dryly and slipped his hand into Rex’s jacket. It was pretty clever and could only be handmade, sewn so cunningly you’d never know what was there. Unless he was pulling you close and kissing you. 

Juno didn’t recognise the necklace he withdrew, the queen had so many jewels it would have been impossible to keep track of them all. But all of them would have that gold seal pressed into them, on the latch or the chain or even worked into the design for the days she was feeling ostentatious. On this one it was small, set into one of the pearls, the butterfly that was the crest of their house.

“Not exactly the wisest move,” Juno hummed, drawing away and passing the necklace through his fingers, toying with it the way the queen had let them do when they were toddlers. On her good days at least, “Unless you’re taking them far off planet where someone won’t know that symbol. Or if you’re gonna melt them down. Which one were you planning?” 

Rex did seem to be a gentleman through and through, accepting graciously when he was caught out, “Both, actually. I was going to take them into the Solar planets and break them into smaller pieces that could then be passed off as antiques.” 

“Smart,” Juno nodded, “I mean, you’d have to be. I know how good our security is, one of my best friends works in it and I do listen in all those meetings the queen thinks I sleepwalk through. How did you come up with an ID good enough to fool our systems?”

He smiled then, “Well, I’m hardly going to reveal all my secrets on the first date, am I?”

“Cute,” Juno grunted, handing him back the necklace, hands shaking softly as he did so, “I guess you were going to go for the crown jewels next, huh? They’re on display in the ballroom. Taking them in front of all those eyes should be a breeze for you, Rex.”

“I wouldn’t blame your guard so harshly,” he allowed, “This night has been a long time in the works. Though…” he looked down at the necklace, “I fear you’ve lost me?”

“You think I’m gonna stop you?” Juno arched an eyebrow, feeling acid in the back of his throat, “My mother has enough jewellery on her person right now to feed every hungry child in our capital, let alone what’s in her bedroom. And those crown jewels? Stolen centuries ago from the indigenous aliens that lived here before it was settled. They’re not ours. I couldn’t care less whether you take them.”

Rex was clearly deciding whether or not to believe him, clearly he wasn’t used to his plans going awry but was trying to make the best of things. 

And Juno couldn’t stop now, the words were coming out like oil bubbling up from beneath the ground, “It’s all a big fucking game, isn’t it? Let’s play at being kings and queens like all the old Earth storybooks, making the exact same mistakes they made without even tasting the irony. Let’s dress up our princess, paste make up over his scars, paint over his depression with gold and silk and trot him out for the highest bidder so we can scrape together just enough to refill our vaults so we can keep on getting gout, stabbing each other in the back and looking the other way while our children overdose on designer drugs just to feel alive, for another hundred years. And then maybe, just maybe, he gets to grow up and sit in the big fancy chair, looking beautiful and wondering where his humanity went, just like  _ me _ .” 

His voice, cracking with anger and guilt and despair he hadn’t realised was building up, echoed off the shining faux stars that arched above them, making them shudder slightly, as if in grief. The butterflies shifted and stirred, wings fluttering in fear. But the words went no further, thankfully caught in the greenery. The flowers would keep safe his truths, the ones he’d never dared say out loud. 

“Juno…” Rex murmured, he hadn’t taken his arm from around his waist, “Juno, dear, it’s alright…” 

Juno gave a bitter laugh and shook his head, not even knowing where to start with how wrong he was. He reached up and took the tiara from his hair, the spun gold and otherworldly diamonds tugging painfully as if they were trying to cling on. But he got them free. 

“Here,” he muttered bleakly, holding it out to Rex, “Take this too. I mean, you were probably planning on it anyway. I guess that’s why you took me out here, to flirt and flatter the gullible princess and rob him blind while he was still reeling? Not bad. You are a clever thief.”

“Juno,” Rex breathed, not moving to take the tiara, “I know I have no right to ask you to believe a word I say but, please. That is not why I approached you. I brought you out here because you looked like you needed it and...and I wanted to help. I know that sounds completely preposterous coming from me but it’s the truth. And, if it’s any proof to you at all, I will not take your tiara.” 

It was the truth. Juno had spent enough of his time around people built entirely out of falsehoods to know that taste of something real, the way the water would taste slightly different on another planet or the air felt fresher after rain. 

“You might as well,” Juno didn’t pull back his hand, “I hate the damn thing. Consider it a gift.”

Rex sighed softly and looked from side to side. Something in his face had changed, Juno realised, something subtle and hard to pin down but he could see it now in this light. He looked less sure of himself, wary, odd that he hadn’t up until now when he was planning one of the most ambitious jewel heists in Harpyia’s history. 

But now he looked like he was taking a real risk. 

“How about this…” Rex put his hands gently over Juno’s and took the tiara. He moved away and placed it between them on the bench where it shone with the bioluminescence, “Let us say I did mean to take this beautiful piece from you but, rendered careless by your beauty and that wonderful kiss we shared, I forgot it here. Now…if it is still here in an hour, when I realise my foolish error, I will take it back and steal away, never to be seen again on Harpyia.”

Juno nodded, biting his lip.

“However,” Rex lifted his eyes to Juno’s, “Say you find it first and take it back with you. I cannot leave this planet without such a lovely thing, of course I can’t. If it was gone then...I’d have to come back for it another night, wouldn’t I? And...on that night, maybe I would steal something far more valuable. If he wished to be stolen, of course.”

Juno inhaled in the softest gasp as he realised what Rex was saying, what he was suggesting, “Rex…”

“Don’t call me that,” he pleaded gently, rising up, “Not now. Call me...call me Peter Nureyev. An orphan from a small, battered planet much like this one who is trying to make something of himself. And who would gladly take on a partner.” 

“Peter Nureyev,” Juno murmured, to feel the words on his lips. That was his real name, there was no doubt about it. He suddenly felt as if he’d been given a very precious gift. 

The stranger, this Peter Nureyev smiled and bowed his head slightly, “Juno Steel. I am an expert on disappearances and I am offering you a ticket on one. I understand what you’d be leaving behind and I understand if the consequences are too great. But...I want you to see what you are worthy of, Juno. I want you to watch as someone truly sees you, for everything you are beneath that crown, and wants this for you.” 

“I...I don’t know if I can…” Juno felt old excuses, old fears press up his throat, “And there’s no time, I’m supposed to be betrothed by the end of the night…” 

“Then don’t take it, dear,” Nureyev said gently, “This is a choice. I feel it’s high time you got one of those.” 

A choice. A chance to choose another one of those faces he saw at the bottom of his champagne glass. A chance to wear a name as lightly as Peter Nureyev did, to feel so free. To not feel the golden fetters around his ankles, tugging him into a life he didn’t want. 

At such a high price. 

“I’ll think about it,” he murmured, wiping away the last of his tears. 

Nureyev nodded and smiled, leaning in and kissing him softly on the lips before saying, “Then goodnight, Juno Steel.”

Juno breathed in the scent of other planets, the scent of fresh, clean air and rain speckled earth, “Goodnight, Peter Nureyev.”

He straightened up, flashed those fox-like teeth and walked away into the shadows of the garden. Juno felt a flash of worry for him, there were guards all around the palace but he told himself he would have a plan to escape. Of course he would. 

And he had left Juno with one too. 

He lingered in the garden far longer than he should have, looking at his tiara, resting slightly crookedly on the bench, looking fragile and beautiful. He sat until goosebumps rose on his bare arms, possibilities blooming and dying behind his eyes, a hundred arguments raging inside his head. 

And then he heard them, footsteps in the gravel. 

“There you are,” Benzaiten was breathing heavily, “God, Juno, mother nearly called off the ball, she’s in there right now crushing macarons to dust so she doesn’t scream in front of everyone. She’s so mad, Juno…”

“I know, Ben, I’m sorry,” Juno stood, smoothing his skirts, “I just needed some air and I lost track of time. I’ll go see her now.”

Guilt and sorrow flickered over his brother’s face, “I...I don’t have to tell her I saw you…”

“No,” he took his hand and squeezed it, “It’s time I went back. Not like she’s going to get any less mad. I’m just sorry you had to tear yourself away from Mick.”

“Juno…” Ben groaned, blushing as he’d known he would. 

He chuckled, nudging him with an elbow, “Come on. Any last words for me before mother tears me to shreds?”

“Not funny,” Ben walked closer to him than he needed to as they started back towards the palace, their hands still joined. Though just before they stepped back into the golden glow of the lights, he stopped them, “...oh, wait.”

“Hm?” Juno looked over as his brother reached up to the top of his head and brushed a few curls, neatening his hair with deft hands. 

“There. Your tiara was crooked.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juno has made his choice and now all that remains is to run towards his future

The waiting was the worst part. 

Juno almost wished the queen would just tear him to pieces in front of the entire ball and have done with it, throw as many bottles at him as she liked. They’d shatter so prettily on the parquet floor. They could call them a feature and before the month was out, broken glass would litter the floor of every noble ballroom on the planet. 

Even that would be better being yanked to her side as soon as he came within reach, black dirt from the garden still clinging to his heels, with not even a word. Just the black fury seeping out of her skin and staining the air between them, the set of her jaw that fired old instincts to run and make himself as small as possible and hope the storm would pass. She marched him around like that for the hour that remained of the party, like a dog on a leash. Juno took the hint and kept quiet through the painful conversations with dignitaries and councillors, all pretending not to see just how hard the queen was gripping the princess’ arm or the depths of volcanic rage clearly showing through the cracks in her make-up. 

And, as the grand clock that still worked on real gears and springs like in the olden days chimed out the first hour of the new day, those guests not yet rendered completely useless by drink all stood to attention, waiting politely. Juno felt eyes pierce his skin in little pinpricks and he swallowed hard, looking down. 

They were waiting for the announcement. This was the ball to celebrate his betrothal, after all, and there was still one role left conspicuously unfilled. This was the last chance and of course it only made sense for the queen to leave it until this last moment, the perfect flourish, only right and proper. 

But Sarah Steel only clenched her teeth tighter and made a dismissive gesture to the herald, signalling the end of the ball. A ripple of surprise and confusion ran through the crowds still left on their feet, murmurings bubbling up as the queen marched Juno from the hall without so much as a closing pronouncement, Benten running after them and only just slipping through before the heavy doors boomed shut. 

Well, Juno thought bitterly, at least they’d have something to talk about on the journey home. 

It was clear immediately that they weren’t going to the twin’s room. Apparently Juno had fucked up so bad that this dressing down could only take place in the throne room, dark and silent now but for the intense lights that were always kept on, framing the throne itself. 

It was an undeniably beautiful thing. Made of silvered wood, the kind that only grew on Harpyia, so it glowed with a faint bioluminescence, it was carved in the shape of vines thick with butterflies. The wings of each and every tiny insect was inlaid with jewels and rich pigments that hadn’t faded with the years. When the queen sat on it to hold court, looking like some mystical creature of the forest, the kind that were said to have lived on Harpyia in its earliest days, she was equally as beautiful. But she never looked further away from his mother. 

It just looked imposing now, with the vast hall around it empty but for the three of them, their footsteps echoing on the floor, the queen’s determined and purposeful, Juno’s dragging, Ben’s hurried and frantic. 

Eventually, she let him go, once they were at the foot of the small stairs that lead to the platform, perfect for the ruler to look down from. Juno was overbalanced when she stopped him and almost fell, the heel snapping off his shoe in his attempt to right himself. 

“Juno,” she snapped, as Benten rushed to help him but was stopped in his tracks by a flick of her fingers, “What is that?” Her other hand snapped out to point up the stairs. 

Juno didn’t understand, trying not to visibly shake even with the panic rising, “I...I don’t…”

“What is that?” she repeated again, more force in her voice. 

“The throne?” Juno guessed, feeling his pulse behind his eye. His instincts shouted at him to please her, to do or say whatever it took to calm her anger, but it was so hard to do that when he didn’t know where she was going. 

“Exactly,” her voice dripped with sarcastic praise, a parody of a schoolteacher with a young child, “And what exactly does that throne  _ mean,  _ Juno?” 

Juno shook his head, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of an answer that would pacify.

“No answer for me, little monster? Not a single word on what this throne, with all its history and all the people depending on it, means to you? But you still claim to be my heir.” 

Juno felt tears burn in his eye. He hated this, he hated that she could still do this to him, that he’d never been allowed to be anything other than a child no matter what he looked like on the outside or what they also paradoxically claimed he was ready for. 

“I’m sorry…”

Sarah shook her head, no interest in hearing it, “I know you had your reservations about tonight but I thought you were willing to make the sacrifice for our planet and our people. I thought you’d listened, all the years I did my best to raise you so you’d be ready. I forgave your embarrassing lapses, telling myself that you’d grow up one day and you’d see…”

“I left for an hour, that’s all!” Juno burst out, unable to swallow the unfairness of it all. 

“An hour,” the queen raged at him, “An hour plus five years of dragging your feet, turning back fine suitors I would have killed for when I was your age, ignoring your responsibilities while we’re recovering from a goddamn war.”

Juno trembled, now it was the truth of what she said that burned, “I...I’ll do it, I’ll pick someone…”

“Too little and too goddamn late,” the queen snarled, “Ever since you two were born I’ve had to do this on my own and shield you from the wolves at our door. Keeping a broken country running while people like the Kanagawas lick their lips and eye us, dodging the snakes in my own palace. All on my own. No one will take that throne from me when I have worked myself hollow for it, not Min Kanagawa, not Lord Takano, not my own selfish little princess. Do you hear me?”

“Jack…” Ben murmured, frowning, but he may as well have been on a different plane of existence to Juno, who could only see the queen. 

“Mother, I…” 

“No,” she shook her head, nearly dislodging the grand crown from her head, having to stop and fix it before centuries old gold and diamonds could clatter to the floor, clinging to it like the shadows she saw might rip it away at any moment, “I tried, Juno. Know I tried to work with you and give you some agency in this. I tried so hard…”

Tears that hadn’t been there a second ago were suddenly visible in her eyes, shining like the gems she gripped so tightly. Juno jolted, seeing his mother standing before him, the mother who had told him stories about the harpies and the butterflies, who’d kicked away her shoes after endless balls and dinners and galas, exhausted, and sat between her sons’ beds to make them laugh with court gossip and the antics of drunk rich people. But then she blinked and was gone, only the queen remaining, cold eyed. 

“I received a message two days ago, one I wasn’t going to share with you but you’ve left me no choice, Juno,” she spoke with as much ice in her voice as in her gaze, “Diamond put forward a request for consideration as your spouse. And I will accept.”

Juno felt the oxygen leave him all at once, like the floor had disappeared out from under him “No…”

“Mother, you can’t!” Ben sobbed out, horror on his face. 

“The bride price they offer far outstrips anyone else’s, even the Kanagawas,” the queen continued like she couldn’t see them, sounding rehearsed all of a sudden, like she’d been practicing this in her head all night, “Their family is powerful, with influence that, true, others could match and exceed but it comes from within Harpyia itself. We could become stronger. We can’t make our little rock any bigger but goddamn it, we can make it something to be reckoned with. And marrying them will give us that. That’s all they ask, Juno, just you, nothing else.” 

Juno couldn’t hear her, he was spiralling, unable to hear anything through rushing air and the throb of old bruises, “Please...mother, please…”

“After everything they did to Juno?” Ben’s tears were falling thickly, dripping onto the shadowed floor, “How they hurt him? How can you be so heartless, mother...” 

The queen turned the full force of her glare on him, “I am doing what needs to be done to save this planet. As apparently you and your brother won’t.” 

Juno had seen Ben angry before, it had always looked so out of place on his sweet, gentle face, so clearly made to smile. And this kind of wounded, aching fury looked even more strange. 

“You have no idea how much he does,” getting the words out was a struggle, his voice tight as a drum, brimming with the anger of a child who has been lied to, “No idea.”

And he turned and fled the room, fled the shadow of the throne, his tears leaving a trail on the floor. 

Juno looked but couldn’t find enough of himself to call to him or run after him as he wanted to. He was too busy hearing angry voices that he’d told himself he didn’t remember, words he’d thrown and words that had struck him. He was remembering how the blows had come without warning, every time, as he’d broken rules he hadn’t known existed. He was remembering a year of nothing but fear and hate, when the way out had been behind him the whole time but he’d never looked. 

The queen wasn’t wrong. Diamond had been- and apparently still was- a figure of power in Harpyia, even if it was a kind of power that most wouldn’t look too closely at. There had been an official face of their family, a good name, structure and commerce as the scaffolding to the true reason why the heads of much older, more wealthy nobles bowed when they entered the room. They were part of Harpyia’s foremost organised crime family, one of the many that bred in the poorest parts of the city. But this monster had gorged itself during the war, pulling the right strings and putting money in the right places to grow and swallow others until they were the largest and richest and, as far as they were concerned, only. Diamond was their heir, the first born into the prestige and respect their dealings had acquired. 

And didn’t they know it. 

Juno had been fascinated since the first day he saw them, at a party much like that night’s disastrous one. And they had been fascinated with him in turn, bringing him close, making him feel seen in a way no one else did. Diamond hadn’t cared that he drank, that he did drugs, that he harboured so much black resentment in his heart. They’d listened to the things he couldn’t even tell Benzaiten, taking Juno’s chin in their fingers and promising the world was so much bigger, telling him everything he wanted to hear, feeding the bitterness and despair inside him even while Juno had believed he was happier than he had ever been. With Diamond, things had made sense. Juno hadn’t needed to face the questions and panicky chaos inside him because all he’d had to do was listen to Diamond. Diamond became everything. 

And when Sasha, Mick and Ben had protested, saying it wasn’t right the way they treated him, the way they controlled him, that he’d been so close to getting clean before he’d met them and now he was in deeper than ever, Juno had felt sorry for them because they didn’t understand. They didn’t understand how happy he was. 

Realising how wrong he was had been like shattering to pieces on jagged rocks hidden by the surface of the sea. The queen had exiled Diamond, banning him from the palace, once Benten and Sasha had brought her enough evidence of how he was abusing the crown princess. She hadn’t said that was why, of course, she wasn’t going to put her heir’s scars on display. But it wasn’t as if there was a shortage of legitimate reasons for their fall from the royal graces, they’d just been ignoring them up until now. 

Putting himself back together and climbing back up the cliff face had been twice as painful as the breaking but he’d done it, in time for coming of age. And he’d actually started to be proud of himself. 

And now he was falling again. As easily as that. 

“We will announce your betrothal tomorrow,” the queen kept talking like Ben’s outburst hadn’t happened, “Diamond not being present at the ball will give us a good excuse for why we didn’t do so tonight and silence any gossipers. God knows some of them are bound to have seen you stumbling out of the gardens with mud on your skirts. There’ll be stories breeding like rabbits all through this palace. But this will set it to rights. This...this will fix everything.” 

If Juno had been looking, if he’d been able to see or think or feel in that moment, he’d have heard the crack in her voice on the last word. He’d have seen another flash of his mother, looking as scared as her son did in that moment. He’d have seen a child in a crown, looking at the shadows on her bedroom wall and trembling in terror. 

But he couldn’t. So he didn’t. 

A guard must have been summoned to lead him to bed because the next time Juno could feel his heartbeat and the air moving in and out of his lungs and the wilted silk against his skin, he was leaning back against his bedroom door. 

Growing up with the only space that was truly theirs being full of antiques and priceless, ancient furniture had been strange. There’d always been a disconnect, like their ancestors would come haunt them if they left a jacket on a thousand year old chair or something. So they’d tried to leave as much of a mark as they could, if only a removable one. There were posters on the wall and you could neatly divide the room by which brother owned which half, just by which bands and streams were represented where. Their clothes were chosen for them, for the most part, but in here they could wear sweatpants and soft jumpers and simple t-shirts and throw them on whichever part of the floor they pleased. Old toys they couldn’t bear to throw away were in boxes at the corners and there were books everywhere that would never be allowed in the palace libraries. They’d managed to give it the veneer of actually having two twenty two year olds living in it. 

And Juno had always felt a little bit safer here. So now he was inhaling the smell of Ben’s hairspray and the cheap barbecue chips he was unapologetically addicted to and even the funk of their unwashed socks, he could think more easily. He could leash the panic and start to think.

And, as it had been all his life, his first thought was to make sure Ben was okay. 

Juno waded into the room, taking off his dress and letting it fall carelessly, shedding everything that would remind him of the last ten minutes. He quickly dressed in something comfier, pyjama bottoms patterned with characters from a cartoon he hadn’t watched since he was six, a loose top that hung off his shoulder. He shed all the jewellery like a snake changing it’s skin, leaving it all on the dresser though the more expensive pieces would need to go back in the vaults or back on display. His lady in waiting, Rita, would sort that out in the morning, she was good at keeping him on track. 

The tiara should have gone with it all but, somehow, when he had it in his hands, he couldn’t let go. Instead he gazed at it for a moment, seeing his own face, puffy with tears and streaked in makeup, fractured and repeating over and over in the jewels. 

What had Peter Nureyev seen in that face? 

The more he thought about it, the more it felt like a dream. All he had to tell himself it was real was the dirt on his broken shoe and the memory of those other hands holding this tiara. Not much to hang a promise on. 

But no, not now. Benten. Find Benten and comfort him, somehow. Tell him what had happened in the garden, tell him that everything would be okay, that he’d find a way to fix it all, even if it tasted like a lie. Then...then Juno didn’t know. 

He didn’t have to look far at all, as it happened. He was putting the tiara down on top of his dresser when the door behind him opened. Still tense and bad memories clinging to him like burrs, Juno jumped, having to swallow down a scream but it was only Benten. His suit, done in colours to compliment Juno’s dress, was rumpled and had clearly gone beyond its natural lifespan, his make-up shedding from his face. Juno vaguely recalled a time when they’d been jealous of their mother, getting to go to all these wonderful parties that sounded so magical. 

In the same instant, after a moment of looking at each other and feeling each other’s exhaustion, both of them spoke in perfect synchrony, “I need to tell you something.”

They had to smile a little at that, despite everything. Juno held out his fist with a questioning expression and Ben grinned tiredly, answering with his own. Three taps, Juno threw scissors and Ben threw rock. 

“You always do that,” Ben observed distractedly. 

Juno wasn’t going to point out that it was deliberate, motioning him to sit on his bed while he sat across on his own, “What do you need to tell me?”

Ben didn’t hesitate, setting his shoulders and looking directly into Juno’s eye, “You need to marry Mick.”

Juno was the one who couldn’t bear to hold his gaze, who couldn’t watch a man still half a boy give up nearly everything that made him happy with not a waver in his voice. He looked at his hands instead, clenched tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

“Benten...we’re not doing this…”

“Juno, it’s the only way. Everything mother said, everything about why she’s...doing this. Mick’s got all of that, his family’s here on Harpyia, they’re powerful. And Mick isn’t a goddamn abusive psychopath. We can take it to her before it’s too late and...and hell, even if she doesn’t agree, if we go and just do it she can’t argue and you’re safe-”

“Ben, I said no, this isn’t an option!” Juno protested, heart thudding hard enough to make him feel sick.  _ This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, I’m supposed to keep you safe, not drag you down into it with me. _

“Juno, it took you so long to get away from them, I won’t let you throw yourself away like that. It was bad enough when mother was marrying you off when you didn’t want to be but now...god, I don’t even want to think about what they could do to you.”

“But Benten…” Juno didn’t see how there were any tears left in him but his eye was wet all the same, “Mick is yours.”

His little brother, who he’d always seen as his little brother despite the mere half an hour between them, who he’d always admired for managing to hold his smile when it seemed impossible, who’d always believed in the best of people after so many had tried to prove him wrong, who’d shown more bravery in his optimism than anything that tried to take it away from him, he smiled with the sadness of someone so much older. 

“Juno, he’s never been mine.” 

And he understood then how it must have felt, to fall in love with one of your best friends, to find someone who understood you so completely and made you feel safe. And to also know they could never be yours, not really. Not in a way that anyone else would ever recognise. Because of something as insignificant as half an hour. 

“It was nice to pretend and...and thank you, for everything you did, covering for us and all the times we switched clothes halfway through a party so I could dance with him twice,” Ben laughed but it was a hollow sound, like a recording of his usual laugh, “Remember that?”

“You always wore everything better than me,” Juno murmurs, his fingers numb now with how hard he was clenching his fists. 

“But...Juno, you being safe and whole and...and well, maybe not happy but, god, not living in fear of your life, that matters more to me than playing pretend,” Ben turned a bracelet around his wrist over and over again, “And Mick...maybe it’s for the best. It’s not going to hurt any less the longer it goes on, right? And I meant what I said to Mother, you’ve already sacrificed everything. If I can help you with this one thing then...then at least it’s a start to making up for everything you’ve had to do.”

Juno looked up at him, voice soft, “Benzaiten…”

His brother coughed slightly, clearly it was becoming more difficult to keep his tears as the lump in his throat, “You know, I found it hard to get until those nights, where I’d become you and you’d become me. When the guests all thought I was you...they treated me so differently. They looked at me like they were waiting for something, like they expected something from me and every second I didn’t do it, I was a disappointment. But I didn’t even know what they wanted! I felt that weight on my shoulders you must feel every second of every day and...god, it was awful. I’d always resented the way I didn’t matter if you were in the room, I never wanted to say it but I did, deep down. I used to hate being the spare. But after five minutes of being you, I’d much rather be invisible than carry that weight on my own.”

“You’ve never been invisible to me,” was all Juno could think to say, “To Sasha or Rita. And definitely never to Mick.”

Ben looked grateful that he’d said that, it seemed to give him the strength to swallow and say, “Let me make the weight a little smaller, Juno. It’s all I can do.”

A small part of Juno he didn’t want to believe existed whispered how easy it would be. Depending on how much was already agreed between her and Diamond’s family, the queen might be furious but Ben was right, the Mercury name had everything Diamond’s did but with more legitimacy, she’d have to forgive them in time. And Mick was kind. He would never do anything unless Juno asked. And, in time, after the performance and the heirs and spares the kingdom demanded, maybe he’d even become fond of him in a way he wasn’t right now. Maybe he’d have something like love in his life. He’d never have to find out what was in the galaxy he could see as points of light in the darkness, he’d never have to risk anything. He could stay in this broken system that had hurt him so much already and try and scratch something good out of the poisoned earth. But he’d know where he was and who he was.

It was more tempting than Juno wanted to admit. 

But he was an older sibling, down to the bone, it was the only part of himself he’d ever been proud of. And he wasn’t about to watch Ben make such a sacrifice for him. 

Not when there was a chance they could do something together. 

Juno stood and moved to Ben’s bed, sitting beside him and putting an arm around his shoulders. The dam burst then, as he’d known it would, his brother weeping against his neck while he held him tight and rocked him gently. He had a vague memory of their mother doing something like this for them, when they would skin their knees or a favourite toy broke or when she would have to go away for a while. But after she’d changed, after the mask had become impossible to tell apart from her real face, Juno had become the expert in making his arms feel like a shield. 

Eventually Ben ran dry and he was just leaning against him, sniffling softly, “So you’ll do it? Please?”

“No,” Juno said simply. 

Ben growled in frustration, shoving him away, “For fuck’s sake…”

“Will you give me a second?” Juno sighed, catching his hands and holding on to them, “Let me explain. I won’t marry Mick. But I won’t marry Diamond either.” 

Ben frowned, eyebrows knitting together, “What…”

And Juno told him everything. How he’d been in the middle of a panic attack when Rex Glass had appeared like a fairytale prince, taking him outside. He told him about the kiss, the jewellery in his pockets. And he told him about the offer, about the tiara.

Well, he told him almost everything. He kept Nureyev’s name as Rex Glass, realising what a gift it had been to hear his real name. Juno Steel kept his promises where he could.

By the time he was done telling it all, Ben was looking at him like he’d looked at him the fair few times Juno had snuck back into the palace, steaming drunk, and collapsed over his legs just before dawn rambling about nonsense. 

“Juno, that sounds fucking insane,” Ben said warily. 

“It does,” Juno nodded, “But just because something sounds insane doesn’t mean it is.”

“Well no, but it’s a fairly good indicator…”

“If you don’t believe me, go check the queen’s jewellery box. You and I both know her bedroom and her office are the most fiercely guarded places in the palace, especially after the night I lost my eye. You know she’s been tripling security nearly every month, Sasha told us so. If Glass isn’t who he says he was- I mean, the second time around- then there's no way her jewellery would be missing, right?”

Ben absorbed that, nodding slowly, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess.” 

“Then go see,” Juno spread his hands, “Go see, come back and tell me.” 

Ben seemed to come back to himself more, now that he had a task to complete and a mystery to intrigue him. He jumped up almost eagerly, throwing off his ballroom attire much like Juno had, not really caring for it’s crumpled finery. Rita would have a fit the next day, Juno knew, she took the abuse of any pretty fabric as a personal offence. 

Once he looked like Benzaiten again and not Prince Steel, he made for the door, only freezing right at the last moment, when his hand was on it. 

“Ben?”

“I’m just…” he chewed on his lower lip, “I’m not sure I want to see mother right now. I don’t want to pretend like everything’s okay with her after...after what she said…”

When you said something so many times, when you fell into comfortable, familiar patterns of speech, you often missed your own eccentricities. But one thing that Juno noted every single time it happened was how, to him, Sarah Steel was the queen and, to Ben, even now, she was mother. 

She had two faces, that was the commonly whispered gossip in the quieter corners. When they said it, they were referring to how quickly her moods changed, how she could be their wise, benevolent queen one minute and, the next, the paranoia would show and she would become someone much more sinister. Juno wondered if they knew how right they were in their idle gossip. 

The problem was Juno only saw the queen, cold and fiery by turns, focused only on securing their future and making their people safe in her misguided ways. Ben could still see their mother, who loved them and shared her secret jokes with them and did everything to protect them. And neither of them were wrong and neither of them were right. But how could you see something that was turned away from you?

Juno sighed softly, “Benten, I don’t want to make things difficult for you…”

Ben set his jaw, stopped his quivering lip, “No. You know what? If I see her, I’ll tell her the exact same thing. I’ll tell her she’s wrong to do this to you. And if she doesn’t like it then she can be mad.”

Juno’s mouth tugged up at one end and he felt a warm glow in his chest that, after everything he’d been through that night, was like balm on an angry burn, “Just don’t get yourself grounded.”

Ben wasn’t gone for very long, all of their bedrooms were in the same royal suite. But it felt even shorter than it was, with Juno thinking about the kiss Nureyev had left him with. A silly thing to focus on, when so much was at stake, but it soothed him. The way he’d been held, the way he’d been able to be the small one who’d needed comfort. The way Nureyev had kissed him like there was nothing else he’d rather be doing. The way he’d looked at him after they’d drawn apart and Juno knew he was seeing him. Him, not the dress or the jewels or the tiara or the name. The way Mick looked at Ben, the way Juno had always been so jealous of because he’d known he could never have it. 

But there it was. And Juno just couldn’t let it go. 

Then Ben was crashing through the door, eyes wild, and his thoughts were interrupted, “It’s gone! Every single one, just like you said! And I asked the guards, they have no idea, no one’s come in or out!”

Juno breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He realised then that he had no clue what he’d have done if the jewellery had been there and it really had all been a dream. He’d just believed, completely and utterly, in Peter Nureyev and never imagined he might have been lying. 

That was new.

“Mother’s going to go apeshit…” Ben was shaking his head in amazement, like a puppy with burrs in it’s ears, “Your thief better be coming back before she realises or he’s going to get his head put on a spike…”

“Come on,” Juno rolled his eye, “She’s not gone that far yet...was she there?” He had a sudden sense of having very little time, like Diamond might come knocking at the door at any moment. 

Ben paused in his frantic amazement, frowning a little, “Actually she was still in the throne room. Shouting at someone. Jack, I think.” 

Juno felt like he should be more concerned about that but he was too busy feeling the kind of hope he’d thought had died around the age of seven. 

“I can’t believe this,” Ben flaps his hands in front of his face, pacing back and forth. 

He looked like he had whenever their mother would reach the climax of their bedtime story and the heros would be dangling over the precipice or facing down something with slaver stringing from it’s teeth. Back when she had the time, she’d been excellent at telling stories. Back when she’d had time to live lives other than her own, when she hadn’t been the one facing monsters that may or may not be shadows on the wall. 

“You’d be the heir,” Juno nods, heart pounding, “You could marry Mick, for real.” 

That seemed to hit Ben with the strength of a sledgehammer, hearing it out loud, hearing it be spoken by someone he trusted implicitly. He practically staggered, hands going to his hair and stroking through it rapidly like he needed something to hold on to. 

“Oh…” he murmured, eyes clearly seeing something else, watching what had always been a selfish dream become his possible future. “I could. We wouldn’t have to sneak around, we’d have an engagement party and everyone would know and it would be fine, we’d get married in the grand hall where they all do and it would make mother smile and she’d know we were safe and you! You’d be my…”

He stopped then, his face falling, his hope and excitement shattering like a broken vase. He looked to Juno, looking like he’d become ten years younger in an instant. 

“You wouldn’t be there,” he murmured, voice small and far away like it was coming from another room, “You’d be gone.”

Juno closed his eyes tightly and took a breath, needing to steady himself before he could meet his brother’s gaze. He’d never found it easy to crack himself open and show others what was inside, even with Benten. How could he, when he was raised to do the exact opposite, to move through a prearranged list of tasks as effortlessly as a ballet dancer, never giving the impression that there was anything but clockwork in his chest?

But if this was going to be goodbye, he was going to fucking suck it up because that’s what Benzaiten deserved. 

He stood and opened his arms, Ben crashing into them so hard they both were in danger of going flying. For a long few heartbeats, the two of them just held each other, as tight as they could, the kind of hug that could only happen between two siblings, between two people who loved each other so fiercely it hurt and who had also called each other every curse word under the sun. 

“I won’t do this if you don’t want me to,” Juno murmured, voice muffled against his own shoulder, “You’re the other half of me, Ben, and I’m not going anywhere if you aren’t okay with it.”

“Juno…” Ben sighed, drawing back but putting his hands on Juno’s shoulders, gripping tight, “You’ve spent your whole life doing things for other people. You deserve this. And I’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry about me. I mean, I know you’re always going to…”

Juno chuckled wryly, “Yeah...can’t help it. It’s a big brother thing.”

“Only by half an hour!” Ben rolled his eyes, exasperatedly, “But whatever. I can stand on my own two feet, Juno. It’s time people realised that.”

Juno sighed a little guiltily through his smile. Maybe he had been seeing Ben as younger and more helpless than he was. Maybe it had been convenient for him to have someone need him in a way he could fix. He couldn’t solve the housing crisis or the poverty in Harpyia, he didn’t have magic words to turn back the queen’s paranoia. But he could hold his brother when he cried at night, he could swap clothes with him so he could dance with his secret boyfriend, he could tell him stories from their childhood to help him remember when things had made a little more sense. And maybe he’d forgotten somewhere along the way that Ben was clever, brave and would make a wonderful crown prince. Better than Juno ever could be, because he hadn’t grown up with the title and had it break him slowly in a myriad of tiny ways. 

“But…” he shook his head, “I’d feel like such a coward. And...and you said, you said you hated being me at all those parties!”

Ben smiled simply. He did that so often, like the act didn’t cost him anything. 

“So I won’t be you, Juno. I’ll be me.”

It was very hard not to cry then but Juno had done enough of that. Any more and he’d render himself useless. 

“And you’re not a coward,” Ben added firmly, “That’s the last thing anyone can call you. It shouldn’t be down to one person to fix all this shit, anyway. It’s going to take time and effort and smart people who care.” 

“But...they’re getting Mick Mercury?” Juno grimaced, finding it easier to not cry if he was joking. It was even easier a second later when he had the pain of Benten socking him in the shoulder to focus on, “Kidding, kidding. So...I guess that makes this…”

“No,” Ben said quickly, holding up a finger, “Don’t you dare. Not yet. Or I’ll cry and then we’re never going to pull this off.”

Juno smiled, nodding, more than a little relieved. 

“Okay then,” the smile was back, almost blinding, “Let’s go get you a happily ever after.”

It had taken some time for the queen to wipe the regret off her face, some was still clinging when her sons assembled wordlessly behind her. But by the time she stood out on her balcony, it was gone, not a trace of it lingering. 

The press and dignitaries assembled below her all turned their faces up as the doors swung open, like flowers moving towards the sun. A sun they needed, a sun that fed them but they would still snipe and gossip about her as soon as she set. She would love to see how they’d survive in a cold world with a dead sky. 

The best of Harpyia was assembled below her, as well as the sweepings of the surrounding planets who were still here. Of course they were eager to hear what she had to say, after the debacle that had been last night's ball with no pronouncement. Perhaps she should thank her little monster. The delay had only fanned the flames and stoked the interest. 

She could sense him behind her, standing next to Benzaiten as a perfect matching set. He’d turned his eye away every time she’d made to glance at him, since he’d been summoned to this announcement and hadn’t emerged from his room until that moment. If he hadn’t already hated her, these next words would set it in stone. 

Inside the shell of what she’d become, Sarah Steel wept. 

Outside the glass, the sun was making it’s slow, leisurely way below the horizon, the glow from the gardens was just igniting in long pulses like a heart waking up. Late for an announcement like this but it had taken a long time to assemble everyone important enough to need to be here. Not long by anyone else’s standards of course but for a queen, it was closer to night than she would have liked. Perhaps she could spin it as deliberate, so they could make these decisions in the glow of the years past, the same light their ancestors had been bathed in as they forged the planet they now stood on, some bullshit like that. 

Of course it would give a lovely ambience to the drinks and canapes after, the circles of the ballroom Juno and Diamond would take so people could congratulate them and all those who’d dared oppose her recently could quake in their boots at the sight of the princess’ arm through that of the heir to the most powerful crime family.  _ You gave me nothing,  _ her smile would say when her lips couldn’t,  _ so I found my own strength. Now fear what my planet will become.  _

It was the face absent from the crowd that concerned her more than that, however. Jack wasn’t anywhere to be seen when, by rights, he should be already doing what he did best, winning people to their side, smoothing the cracks. Likely he was off nursing his battered platitudes and niceties she’d torn through last night. Well and good, as long as he remembered who truly ruled Harpyia but that didn’t mean she would forget his absence. 

She was done forgetting and forgiving. 

She spoke in a loud, clear voice, the one she’d honed for years with her mother standing her at one end of the empty throne room and her at the other. She had nightmares about that sometimes, her mother’s voice booming at her from somewhere she couldn’t see,  _ louder, louder, louder, Sarah.  _ She spoke of the strength of Harpyia, how they would only flourish and grow in the coming years as Princess Juno moved towards his time on the throne with his new partner by his side. She put a lot of emphasis on the power and prestige of his betrothed, how their family was part of Harpyia, a hard working and dedicated family that showed the best of what their planet could be.  _ A pit of snakes with venom dripping from their fangs,  _ she corrected herself inside her mind,  _ and I will step carefully. But oh, won’t it be fun to throw some of you bastards into that pit. _

“And now to formally announce his betrothal, my beloved son and heir, your Princess Juno,” she moved smoothly to one side, to give her little monster a severe  _ don’t fuck this up _ look before he spoke the pre rehearsed words he’d been delievered that morning, voice clear and bright and without a tremble. 

And she was faced with empty air. 

The queen was glad she was turned away so they couldn’t see the shock and dismay on her face. So they couldn’t see her look at Benzaiten, still standing straight backed and to attention, the barest flicker of a smile on his face and growl through gritted teeth, “Where the fuck is he?”

The two guards there purely for ceremony looked around, helpless, fumbling. The murmurs below began, quiet and rumbling as a river with hidden currents ready to pull you below and choke you. And Benzaiten only shrugged. He  _ shrugged.  _

Not caring who heard now, the queen dispatched the guards with a curse, ordering them to find the crown princess and drag him up here whatever state he was in. She gave a bitten off scream of frustration and brought her palm down on the polished wood of the balcony’s railing, snapping two of her nails. She brought her heel down so hard it snapped off halfway up.

And inside, Sarah Steel prayed that her son was running hard and fast. 

The garden really was beautiful. Juno thought it every time he sat here, no matter what or who he was occupied with, but it bore saying over and over again. It was beautiful. Harpyia was beautiful. 

The gathering night put some coolness in the air. His dress was far less ridiculous than last night’s monstrosity of lace and petticoats but the sleeves were shorter, leaving his arms free to pepper with goosebumps as he sat on the bench and waited. His silent flight from the balcony, taking all the quickest, quietest ways he’d ever snuck in and out of the palace, hoping that everyone was too busy looking the other way to learn the name of the person he wasn’t going to marry, had left his heart writhing with leftover adrenaline. 

But now he could just sit and take air in and out, feeling shreds of himself fall away and get snagged by the wind like petals. He would have to check in later and see what was left, see whether he’d lost anything he cared about. He doubted it though. He only felt lighter as the moments passed. 

And then he wasn’t alone. 

“Juno Steel,” the voice came from close by, “You can’t know how happy I am to see you here.”

“Same to you, Peter Nureyev,” Juno turned and smiled, he was sitting right beside him on the bench, “This is yours.”

He held the tiara out to his thief. It felt so light in his hands, far too light for the history it carried. The history he was giving away in this moment, as he moved from being the figurehead of a planet, the mannequin on which they dressed their centuries, to being a flesh and blood human being. Who could make mistakes and do things wrong but also learn and grow and make beautiful things out of it all. 

Like falling in love with the man in front of him. 

Nureyev barely even glanced at the tiara, already leaning in and kissing him. If Juno had harboured any worries that last night had been a dream, that he’d blown it up in his mind, that it would never be what he’d remembered in his stressed out, desperate haze, that kiss wiped them away in a moment. It was just as sweet and honest and full of promises that he believed Nureyev would keep. It made sense, in a beautifully simple way. 

And as much as he wanted to sink into it, his ear was straining towards the palace, a shrinking distance away from them. Was that the trickle of the water fountain hidden in the middle of the maze or was it angry voices rising in volume? Was that the beat of butterfly wings above them in the canopy or footfalls on the gravel, running towards them? 

Reluctantly, Juno pulled away as far as he could bear to which wasn’t very far at all, “We should go. I want a seat on that magical escape and I don’t fancy seeing you in the dungeons.”

“That’s a shame,” Nureyev gave a smile that flickered quick as a sparked match and Juno’s face felt hot like he’d been standing too close, “But you’re right. I came to steal you away and I do not intend to have this particular prize taken from me.”

Juno grinned, letting him pull him to his feet. Both of their hands, Juno’s right and Nureyev’s left, held the tiara as their fingers wound together. Perfect complementary shapes locking into place, the spun gold snug between them. All they had to do was keep a tight hold and not let go. 

And run.

It was immediately obvious that this was Nureyev’s element. Like Ben dancing, like Rita at her comms, like the queen in her throne, this was where he was the brightest star in the sky. Sprinting through somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be, holding something he wasn’t supposed to have, making a breakneck escape, this was what he was made for. All Juno could do was hang on and grip his hand, letting himself be pulled along. 

They weren’t going to be caught, he realised that after a minute, as Nureyev fearlessly dived into the thick woods that surrounded the royal grounds. The queen may as well try and catch lightning in her bare hands, it just wasn’t going to happen. A force of nature was a force of nature. 

Which meant Juno really was leaving for good. 

In between his own ragged breaths he wondered what Ben was doing right now. Crying probably, though Juno really didn’t want to think about that. But if he was, he hoped Mick was holding him tight against his chest the way he’d seen them do, where Ben could tuck his face against Mick’s collarbone. Mick had been there for the goodbyes, with the rest of them, with all of the people he actually wanted to say it to when he’d realised he had less than an hour to go. 

Juno didn’t want to think about that too much, not right now when he had to depend on his lungs to pull in air and his eye to stay clear. The time for it would come later when he could sit and see the miles he’d put between his home and him clearly in his mind. For now, he just hoped that Ben was safe in Mick’s arms, that Rita was pulled into a tight hug, that Mick’s hurt anger had faded some. He could just hope that they’d be okay. 

And in return, he would go and be okay. 

The forests around the palace were so dense, they were rarely set foot in, the gardeners had long ago given up on taming them. Juno always remembered being warned away from it as a child, nanny after nanny and even their mother telling them firmly that the forest was not a playground and it would be so easy to get lost. They hadn’t listened, obviously, he and Ben, along with Mick and Sasha, had dared each other into them hundreds of times, sitting under the towering trees with their veins of bioluminescence and passing bottles of expensive wine and joints back and forth, telling ghost stories and seeing who could climb the highest. 

But even they had never pressed in too far, staying where some sunlight could still trickle in between the leaves overhead. There was just something primal and terrifying about the true heart of the forest, something about it that still felt alien, no matter how long Harpyia had been colonised. Those trees and plants had been there long before any humans, seething there for centuries upon centuries, and it was easy to believe they still harboured a grudge. 

Juno hoped it wasn’t too strong a resentment as he followed Nureyev deep into their embrace, feeling very at their mercy. But maybe they would understand. Maybe they could empathise with a princess running away from the same structures that had infected the planet that had once been theirs. Maybe they envied his legs to run with. 

He must have had the right of it because the trees kept them well hidden, wrapping them in a veil of black leaves, stems throbbing with blue light like there were hidden rivers running through them. That was the only light they had, all the brightness of the setting sun completely banished by the thick of the foliage. Their own personal, premature night had fallen, lit only by faint stars in an array of natural, biological colours. But it seemed to be enough, Nureyev never stumbled once, even as the ground beneath them grew spongy and uneven and twigs started to snap under their heels like broken bones. 

Juno was starting to curse his dresser. He obviously couldn’t dress for his escape, not when he was trying to make it seem like he fully intended to attend the pronouncement, not without arousing suspicion. He’d long ago learned how to run in heels and full length skirts, he was no amature. But even he was starting to suffer, points of agony flaring on the soles of his feet and he was sure the hem of his dress was a wreck. 

And then Juno realised he was only noticing his hurts because they were slowing down. 

Soon they came to a stop entirely, Nureyev pulling them into the shelter of the thickest, blackest trunk, the one roughest and most scarred with age. He was sweating too, lightly around his hairline, breath coming in soft, practised pants. That pleased Juno, it was good to see his thief really was human. 

“This will do,” Nureyev kept his voice low, though sound would never carry here, “We can rest here awhile.”

“What’s the plan?” Juno wheezed, leaning against the tree. He still hadn’t let go of Nureyev’s hand. 

Nureyev grinned at him, he clearly loved explaining his plans, seeing another person’s eye widening in awe at their brilliance, “They’ll be expecting us to run straight for the capital port. Or one of the smaller ones, if they have any regard for our intelligence. So instead we wait, out of range of sensors or signal jammers, give them time to exhaust all the obvious options and become panicky, become more reckless and heavy handed. Those heavy hands may come down with more force but it only makes the gaps between the fingers wider. That is when we slip through them in my own vehicle. Unregistered, untraceable and damn good at escapes. It’s been waiting here in these woods since last night with my supplies.”

Juno followed his easy gesture over to a particularly thick bramble patch. Only when he squinted and looked very closely could he see the glint of something chromatic, a bright flash of green, the edge of a wheel.

He grinned, “So we wait right under their noses, somewhere they can never find us.”

Nureyev gave him a languid smile, “Are you afraid of roughing it for a night, princess?”

“No more than anyone else. And call me Juno, okay?”

“Juno,” Nureyev repeated obediently, letting his voice slide over each syllable. 

He sounded different, he’d clearly been wearing a voice as easily as he’d been wearing those clothes at the ball. It was all gone now, voice softened with the subtle accent of somewhere outer rim, the clothes just plain black pants and a tight black jumper, belt heavy with packs and rolls and concealed tools, no square inch of skin exposed that didn’t absolutely need to be. 

Juno realised then that he found competency very hot. 

Clearing his throat, he stood and pulled a twig from his hair. He let their fingers unwind, leaving Nureyev with the tiara, likely he had some place in that car to conceal his treasure. 

“There’s hot pools just a little ways over there,” Nureyev was watching him carefully, a smile playing on his lips, “If you want to freshen up.”

“Yeah,” Juno felt adrenaline fuelled laughter bubble in his voice, “Yeah, I do look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards, huh?”

“Please,” Nureyev sniffed playfully, “The hedge was Plan B. No, I just mean...if you need a moment.”

Juno gave him a grateful smile and steadied himself back on his own feet, “Sure. Feel free to join me.”

Certain his intentions had been made clear, he picked his way through the clinging leaves half gone to rot and the claggy, black mud. It wasn’t hard to follow the steam to the pools Nureyev had spoken about, close by just as he’d said. He must have spent months memorising the layout of the palace and the forest, he knew things even Juno didn’t after living here all his life. 

Fingertips brushing the surface of the water told him they were plenty warm without being blisteringly hot. The mud made them black as night, no wind meant they were still as a mirror. You could so easily stumble right into them, never knowing they were there, if you didn’t spot the bioluminescent fragments of leaves floating on their surface. 

It was a while before his heart stopped pounding and his breathing stopped coming in hitched gasps. Once it did, once the quiet of the forest settled into him like a plant growing roots through his veins, everything felt so fresh and new. Like up until now, he’d had wool covering his skin, stuffed into his nose and mouth, clinging to his eyes. Now it was gone, Juno could believe he’d never heard butterfly wings beating above him before, that he’d never smelled fresh earth, that he’d never really seen water running in perfect diamond droplets down his fingers. 

The jewellery went first, rings, necklaces and hair pieces falling to the ground like stars. Then the eyepatch, it’s delicate lace and white satin instantly muddied. The gown next, a sweet off white waterfall of lace, specifically chosen to echo a wedding dress. Juno took great pleasure in pulling out a penknife (it was amazing what you and a dedicated lady in waiting could hide in such voluminous skirts) and sawing through the material just above his knee, freeing his legs should he need to run again, before hanging it over the bough of a tree and letting the sheaf of cut away lace flutter down to the ground. He had a sudden daydream of a mother fox snagging the loose material and using it in her den for her cubs. The shoes were completely abandoned, their white satin and pearl decoration ruined by the mud. If Juno had to run again that night, he would do it in bare feet. 

Lastly, he hung his chemise and panties from the same black branch, shivering pleasantly at the cool air on his skin. It made for a shuddering contrast when he slipped into the water, felt it rise to the level of his throat, deeper than he’d first anticipated. The line between the heat and the cold was sharp, it could have been drawn on with a marker, and for a moment it was all he could do to close his eye and feel it all. He hadn’t known freedom would have such a distinctive taste to it. 

He took a breath and submerged himself, letting the black warmth close over his head with a sensation not unlike being consumed by some beast, close enough that there was an edge of fear to the action. But then he was just floating, like a heart in a chest, for a moment that seemed so purely endless. Like he could just keep sinking, through the earth, through to nothing and never feel anything but peace. 

Juno had felt something like that before, a version of that promise of a quiet eternity that wasn’t as clean and neat as this. He’d replicated it with drugs, with alcohol, with walking along the very edge of the palace roofs, knowing that all he’d need to do was take a step forward and the fall would stretch on forever. And there had always been a bitterness when it had faded, when he’d pulled away and the feeling had slipped through his fingers. 

This time there was none of that. This time he rose up out of it gladly. Because Juno knew what was waiting for him up above was worth returning to. 

When his head broke the surface again, Peter Nureyev was there a little ways away, hand resting lazily on the nearest tree but there was a hopeful kind of strain in his bright eyes. He was naked too, a bottle hanging from the fingers of his slack hand, the black leather of a harness hugging his slim, angular hips. 

Juno had to laugh, “So when you said you kept your kit in that car...what part of thieving is a cock useful for exactly?”

Nureyev gave a disarming smile, relaxing at his positive reception, “For the part where you steal away pretty ladies to secluded areas in beautiful forests, obviously.” 

The adrenaline reawakened in his veins as Juno hauled himself up out of the pool, already stirring before he even broke the surface, before the ghost of the warmth broke into tiny pearls on his skin. By the time he and Nureyev met somewhere in the space between them, he was half hard and had a moan waiting for when their lips met. He didn’t have a chance to feel cold because Nureyev was burning when he wrapped his arms around him, his skin prickling with a close heat. 

Juno wondered cheekily if he got this way after all of his daring escapes. If after every one he had to find a shadowed corner, some kind of privacy, and tend to himself, pressing back sighs of release with his palm. He liked that idea. And suddenly he wanted to be around for every one after this point. 

He let Nureyev lead, aware of the points of contact but not the movement between them, too lost in his lips and the slide of his tongue. His back pressed against the ground which was suddenly so soft, warm with whatever underground spring fed the pools. Nureyev’s hands were greedy things, at his hair then his broad shoulders then tangled in the hair on his chest then following the rounded valley of his hips. Juno felt appraised almost, climbing high on how clear it was that his thief liked what he touched and saw. He felt precious. 

Kissing had never factored much into Juno’s other nights, at parties with heirs just as lost as him or beautiful servants who’d caught him when he was feeling lonely. But now that it was someone he wanted to kiss, he was addicted, moving in again and again after they’d snatched a breath of air, until both of their mouths were bitten and tender and everything tasted the same. 

There was so little of Nureyev physically, he was all angles and bones, but somehow he was everywhere, wrapping Juno up so completely, it felt like he must have more hands than just the two. They were here, then there, then they were slick with cool gel and then, oh, they were right where they needed to be. Juno gasped, catching his lip on Nureyev’s pointed teeth and grinding hard into it. Nureyev gave a soft laugh and murmured something about impatience that was lost to a low groan as Juno’s thumb began to circle one of his nipples.

After it all, they’d ended up with Juno lying flat on his back, his knees the parentheses for Nureyev’s hips, his dirt stained hands splayed on his thin chest, their faces bare inches from each other, close enough that their noses could touch. Nureyev’s fingers were sunk deep into the earth, anchoring them both. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured into the moment’s pause before he pressed inside him. 

Not your gown is pretty. Not your hair is lovely or your makeup or your crown. Nureyev saw Juno, only Juno, as stripped bare as he could ever be and saw he was beautiful.

And Juno realised he was going to follow this man to the very edge of the stars. 

He pressed him forward with his heels, the need now beyond desperate. Nureyev complied, moving almost reverently, like it was a privilege to share his body, kissing him as he sank deeper and deeper until their skin met. He licked some of the water still beading on Juno’s cheekbone as he began to rock, slowly at first then steadily faster until it felt like they were running again, hearts pounding in their chests and breath misting in the air. 

It wasn’t a fairytale. It was getting cold and Juno didn’t even want to think about where he’d be finding dead leaves in the morning, they were both giddy and giggling and trying new things in bursts of frenetic eagerness, too hungry to settle on just one thing. And, far sooner than either of them would have liked, Juno was gripping Nureyev tightly, pressing his face to his shoulder and gritting his teeth as he painted both of their chests. Nureyev fell with him a few moments later, gasping and groaning, sinking to his elbows as his strength left him in shudders and starts. Passionate but in a hectic way, messy and dizzy and grasping, not the tasteful fade to black at the end of a fairytale when everything was wrapped up neatly and everyone was on the path to their perfect future.

But it did feel like the start of something. 

Juno thought about that as they washed off in the pools and wandered back to Nureyev’s car, wrapped themselves in blankets he pulled from the seemingly bottomless trunk and watched the stars from the backseat. He thought about it as he fell asleep listening to Nureyev tell him about all the famous heists and daring stunts that had been pulled off in this car, his head pillowed on his thief's stomach. 

He’d never had the start of something before. He’d always had endings, he’d had destinations to chase, goals to achieve and once he’d done that, nothing. But there had been some security in that, at least he’d only ever had two options. Get there or fuck up. Success or nothing. 

Starts were different. Starts could lead anywhere, there were a million options, all branching out into tomorrows he couldn’t see, roots of a tree that just went deeper and deeper. Any one of them could lead to heartbreak, any one could be a wrong turn. Hell, the way this was going, he could end up in a jail cell for the rest of his life. So many ways for this to be a shattering mistake. 

But Juno slept better curled up on the back seat of the Ruby 7 than he had in any featherbed in the palace. He felt safer with Nureyev’s heartbeat and quiet voice than he had in years. 

Juno would take a start every time. 

The space port had a metallic, inorganic kind of stink to it, the smell of cluttered machinery, of too many kinds of homespun fuel, of rust and ill fitted parts. That alone marked it as not the biggest nor the nicest port on Mars but one of the smaller ones that clustered in places like Olympus Mons, stretching out like growing boils across the sands, even to the Cerberus Province. This one would be somewhere between those two extremes. The black market items weren’t on flagrant display on the tables but you got the strong sense that the merchants wouldn’t have to reach far to get a hold of them. 

Juno was standing at one of the more reputable looking booths, a StarMail station, one of millions that could be found scattered all over Solar planets, even one or two on the outer rim. They all looked the same with their faded chrome and smiling AI attendant on a glitchy comms screen, the loud, colourful logo of a cartoon star with a mail bag slung over one shoulder, their promise to send all messages securely and safely to all corners of the system. This one was squatting between a booth selling rusted parts clearly scavenged from battlefields and a vendor selling wraps of some meat that steamed like burning tires and seemed to actually have parts covered in scaly chitin. 

The funny thing about StarMail was, if you had the right codes on the right signal jammer, the kind that were only sold to certain individuals in certain seedy space ports, you could send something completely untraceable. Your message could have come from Jupiter or Mars or Brahma, anywhere in the solar system, bouncing around mischievously between all of these identical booths. All it took was a press of a button, under the guise of scratching your chest under your long trench coat. The one you’d just bought and fit you better than anything you’d ever owned. 

But you still kept the same slightly too small dark sweater underneath it. Because your boyfriend had given it to you one damp, humid morning in the forest half a week ago and it still smells slightly of his cologne.

Juno kept the message short, it would be easier that way, just in case it did fall into the wrong hands. After all, there were several hundred million creds attached to it. Hidden, sure, but enough that you couldn’t be too careful. 

_ For social projects. Housing, hospitals, anything that will help people. More to come. I’m doing good. Miss you. J.  _

He had to smile a little, as he sent it off and watched his words dissolve into pixels that blew away on a digital wind. It certainly was helpful that the palace’s email servers were the best, most secure on the market. Benzaiten Steel was probably the easiest person to send the funds of a stolen tiara, broken down and sold across the solar planets. 

Juno had been half listening to the comms perched on the counter of the food stand, tinnily broadcasting the news in a sugary, bubblegum voice of whatever presenter they had this month. The usual stuff, the political and high society dramas that always raged through the celebrity stratospheres of the galaxy, barely touching the people below. Marriages and divorces on the same day, murders before breakfast the next morning. Amounts of creds hundreds of zeros beyond what he’d just sent off changing hands in seconds, forced or gladly frittered. Parties and balls and orgies, the fallout of so much money and so little sense. Big and flashy and grand and final. Countesses, stream starlets, mobsters. 

And runaway princesses.

“The search continues for the princess of the outer rim planet, Harpyia, missing now for close to a week. Rumours abound despite the stony statements from the palace. Was Princess Juno stolen along with millions of creds worth of ancient royal jewels? Or did he flee of his own accord, taking the jewellery as recompense for years in the spotlight? Several stream studios are already in talks to tell the story of this runaway heir, even as it unfolds. Little concrete news comes from the planet’s current monarch and her staff but we think the sudden announcement of a hasty engagement between the remaining prince and one Lord Mercury speaks for itself, viewers! Keep watching for more on this unfolding rollercoaster. Or, well, watch it all played out on your screens in technicolour before too long!” 

He allowed himself a smile, one that would still be hidden behind the scarf wound around the lower half of his face. It was dusty on Mars after all, especially out here in the shadow of the great mountain, with these cut rate domes. 

There was so much to see in the Olympus space port, so many unique little pieces of life, so different from everything he was used to. He could have stayed and breathed in the rank smell of the charring meat and listened to the two traders off to his left exchange rapid fire insults he didn’t understand all day, endlessly fascinated by it all. 

But Juno couldn’t hang around. He couldn’t linger and listen to the tragic, already mythologised tale of princesses gone astray, of glamour on the run and jewels worth more than stars going missing. 

He had a ride to catch. And someone to catch it with. 

You couldn’t park an infamous getaway car in the middle of a busy space port. They took a hoverbike out into the sandy wastes where Nureyev had stashed it, safely tucked out of reach of the city lights. 

“Well, Juno,” he smiled his sharp toothed grin as he brought the engine to life and put his whole weight on the pedals, pressing them back in their seats, “We’re between jobs and we’re filthy rich with ill gotten gains. The entire galaxy is yours, my love. What would you like to see first?”

Juno knew exactly what he wanted to see first, though he wasn’t going to share it. He waited until they were past the milky red haze of the atmosphere, until there was just the blackness around them, just the endless night of space. 

There he could see his reflection better. He saw his square jaw, the shadows under his eyes from the endless travel in a short space of time, the plain black eyepatch. He saw his curls, flattened and out of shape from sleeping in the back of the Ruby 7 and doing a lot of things that weren’t sleeping in the back of the Ruby 7. He saw the smudge of sauce from the street food they’d eaten still standing up, marring the corner of his mouth. He saw the ease his face was starting to settle into as a matter of course, hesitant like the muscles weren’t quite sure what to do just yet but they were learning. 

And he saw the stars, up above him, all around him, through him. All his possible futures mapping themselves out, like constellations that hadn’t been sketched in yet. 

And in the middle, his own reflection, clear as day against the night. A face he was happy to see. 

And Juno smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider leaving a comment, I put a lot of work into this! You can come find me on Tumblr too, @mollymauk-teafleak


End file.
